A Marked Man. Stella Cameron

life in the town was over. The people she’d known were dead or gone—most of them. Those who remained would never recognize her after so long. Almost everything about her had changed.

      She definitely wanted out of this car. “Didn’t you get lunch at Pappy’s?” What did it matter? Once she was out of the car she could take charge of herself. “Well, I’ll come. Why not. I always like pickin’ up fresh ideas.” If she made a big deal out of driving somewhere else, Max could get suspicious.

      “I had a good lunch.” He couldn’t read her mood. “But I can’t remember what it was, so I’ll take more time with the bagels.”

      This man was in control, always. He had never blabbered about inconsequential things—like bagels. “Lead me to Char’s,” she said.

      When he glanced at her again, his eyes were narrowed and she felt him assessing her, her reactions. He suspected she was humoring him. She stared back into his eyes and felt drawn to him, even as she couldn’t put fear completely aside.

      In St. Martinville, folks had said she was a bad seed, that she went after the kind of excitement that could ruin her. She had heard whisperings: “Disgustin”’ “Stay away from her and make sure your George does. She’s ruined more than one decent man.” They had no proof because there was none, but they linked her to men she’d never met and she had no defense because she had made two mistakes that turned out badly enough to trash her reputation.

      Max drove into St. Martinville. The rain had cleared the streets of people on foot.

      “You know your way around this town,” she said and her voice felt unused. Annie kept her face straight ahead and wished she could put her hood up again and hide inside.

      “Blink and you’d miss the place,” Max said. “What’s to know? It’s a pretty town, friendly.”

      She shrugged. The fog over the road had dissipated as soon as they entered the town, but the rain beat down here just as heavily as it had in Toussaint.

      That’s where she should be, in Toussaint, at Pappy’s doing her job. This was out of character for her and it mustn’t happen again. “Where is this Char’s?” She didn’t recall the place.

      “Close to St. Martin de Tours Church. And there’s the church now.”

      The white, single-story church boasted a bell tower over the front door. A few people formed a line out front to file up steps and into the building. Visitors liked to tour the building, and a wet day was a good time to be inside. When she’d been a little girl, Annie used to creep into the Perpetual Adoration Garden. She liked to sit and stare at the statue of Evangeline, the Acadian heroine. Peace waited there, and although Annie had never told anyone, she had secretly thought Evangeline watched over children—and fairies. She bit her lip. She had been certain fairies flitted about among the flowers because she’d seen them, and since she would never share that secret, no one would argue the point.

      A right turn on Hamilton and they traveled a couple of blocks. Annie’s stomach hit her diaphragm. Not much had really changed and she didn’t want to be there. Abruptly, Max turned in at a narrow alley she didn’t recall and made a quick right into a forecourt large enough for half a dozen cars. One open space remained and the Boxster slid in tidily.

      A single window on the left side of a boxy little building gave a clouded impression of rapidly moving figures inside. The door, with an oval of glass at its center, stood to the right. Whoever painted “Char’s Bagels” over the window wouldn’t be making a living in signs. Each turquoise letter was of a different size from its partners. And the closer the offender got to the end of the two words, the smaller his or her efforts became. Apparently he had eventually noticed his mistakes and attempted to fill up ragged spaces with yellow-brown pocked circles with holes in the middle. Those would be bagels, Annie decided.

      Max switched off his engine but didn’t attempt to get out of the car. He turned her heart, and caused an ache in some places she shouldn’t allow to react at all. An incredibly good-looking man with a square jaw, a dip in the center of his chin and a wide, firm mouth that turned up at the corners, he was tall, with a muscular body—and if he knew how much time she spent fantasizing about him, he would probably laugh, or pity her.

      He got out but she couldn’t make herself move. Max opened her door and offered her his hand.

      Reluctantly, she joined him. He looked steadily down at her, his black brows drawn together. “What’s wrong? There is something, isn’t there.”

      One of the blushes that cursed her life blossomed on Annie’s face. “Nothin’ wrong.”

      He eased her away from the door and shut it. Once again they were pounded with rain and he swiped a hand across spiky eyelashes. “Yes, there is. What happened this morning? Why weren’t you at Pappy’s? You don’t miss work.” He’d done everything wrong with her so far today. The clock needed to be turned back. No hope there.

      “Whoa, boy,” she said. “I don’t have to explain my actions to you.” Adrenaline started to rush and gave her some strength, together with a whole heap of nervous jumpiness.

      Someone needed to get them out of this tight corner and it should be him. “You’re right. This is my fault. I got a bad shock this morning and when I saw you, it was like reaching someone sensible and sane who made me feel…calmer, I guess. I wanted to stay close to you.”

      “I guess we both had rotten mornings.” Yet again, she said something she should have kept to herself. “Happens that way sometimes. Irene got out and had to be chased down.” She hated lying and lies were coming too easily lately.

      “Your cat? You found it?”

      “Her, yes,” she said and looked around the area. She had been down here at some time but the bagel shop had to be relatively new. Petals from magnolia blooms rolled over the forecourt. She could smell their sweet, musky scent.

      Two laughing women spilled from a beauty shop on the corner and Annie spun away in case they looked in her direction. She put a hand to her throat and tapped the toes of her damp pumps. If they did see her, they’d only get a view of her back and never guess who she was, not that she recognized them.

      If he had made her this edgy, Max thought, then he hated himself. “Come on. We’ll get some hot coffee and warm up a bit. Then I’ll drop you at your place so you can change. I’ll hang and get you back to work.”

      He realized she was looking at something behind him and it didn’t make her happy. He resisted the urge to find out what had caught her attention. Annie didn’t seem to want to be here. And he didn’t want to be in Toussaint now, but he had no right to pull her into his problems.

      He put a hand on her shoulder and found it rigid. “You coming?”

      Her lips parted and her eyes filled with tears. Tears? Hell, what had he done to her? When he looked over his shoulder he saw nothing but a man leaving the shop with a bulging white paper bag.

      “Annie?”

      If she could close her eyes and be miles away, she would. “No! No, I can’t stay today. You go on in. I know how to get back to Pappy’s on my own.” As soon as she got away from this parking lot she’d call Carmen to come and get her. He didn’t ask questions and he didn’t discuss people’s business.

      Max didn’t move.

      “Really,” she told him. “I’ll see you back there—maybe tomorrow if you’re in.”

      He reached for her right hand, turned it palm up, dropped his car keys there and folded her fingers over them. “Take my car. I’ve got a few things I should do while I’m here. Roche will be along and I’ll go back with him. Just leave the car at Pappy’s.” Meanwhile he’d get his act together and make sure he never made another stupid slip like this one. But then he intended to find out why Annie was nervous in this town. More than nervous, just about paralyzed. “Off you go.”

      “No. That’s